Double Double Toil and Trouble
by rnaedhros
Summary: AU. Almost two-thousand years have passed since the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his servant, Sauron. Now, a blissfully unaware Legolas receives a letter from Hogwarts stirring up ancient questions about his father's role in the Lords' defeat and what role he will have to play, with the help from unexpected friends, in the present.
1. The Letter

First, before you get on to the story, I would like to point out this is an _Alternate Universe _ in every sense of the term. I use _Modern Day AU _very loosely, and I would like to point out that I know more about the _Lord of the Rings _universe more than I know about the _Harry Potter _universe. The timeline is still the same, if that makes sense, like it is currently the Third Age in this universe, but the Third Age happens to be a very modern age. (Spoiler-ish) When Thranduil went to Hogwarts, it was during the Second Age and there wasn't modern technology like there is in the "modern" Third Age. I hope that makes sense, think of it as the same type of calendar system as there is in the Tolkien universe (First Age, Second Age, etc) only technology progressed, much like in real life. If you have any questions, please feel free to leave them in the reviews. I'm using Sindarin in speech and Sindarin Elvish translations are at the bottom. Also, I based Legolas' personality here on his book personality, and while I _love _Orlando Bloom's portrayal of Legolas, his book personality is much more carefree. :) Happy reading!

Disclaimer: All rights go to the Tolkien Estate and to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Even the non-canon characters still use Tolkien's Elvish names and translations, thus going to him.

* * *

The wooden room was unnervingly quiet, and despite quiet clearing of one's throat and an occasional sigh, as well as the ruffling of fabric as Thranduil shifted in the large, plush chair; the office would be described as _too _silent. Perhaps the Elven King should have been grateful for this moment of respite from the usual loud noises erupting down the hallways of the palace, but as he leafed through the many papers piled up on his wooden desk, he felt nothing but doubt. Shaking it off at first and scoffing slightly at himself, Thranduil continued on with the dull requests and letters that came in the mail that day, but eventually his ice blue eyes drifted away from the bills and reforms and narrowed in suspicion and the continuous lack of noise.

There was never any quiet in a house with his two sons.

Although the oldest was nearly four hundred years in age, still seemingly young for elves, Brandor was usually quiet and reserved, taking his duties as Crown Prince seriously and with honour. But his youngest, still just an elfing, practically didn't even grasp the _meaning _of quiet and reserved. The little prince would get into more trouble than what Thranduil thought was possible, anything from terrorizing the kitchen staff to noble lords that came by with _pranks. _And despite the Elven King's best efforts and dutifully held punishments from cleaning the stables to scrubbing the floors, it would seem as if Legolas would never cease with his mischievous antics.

Thranduil let out a long sigh, and made motion to get up from the chair. As he was walking by the desk, his movement fluttered the papers he was reading over, disturbing them and letting a small letter escape from beneath the pile and land on the floor at his feet. He thought nothing of it as he bent down to retrieve the letter, having mind that he'll get to it and read it over later, after making a thorough search for his sons. But, the elegant script gracing the beige envelope made him freeze. Swiftly, he collected himself, tearing open the envelope with renewed vigour.

Blue eyes scanned over the curly print diligently. Reading it over multiple times, as if to confirm what he saw was authentic and not the product of an over stimulated mind, only then did Thranduil lower the letter, placing it gently back upon the cluttered desk. His face scrunched up in contemplation over the letter as he stood at the end of the dark wooden desk, pondering his next move.

The thought of his sons came back full force, and with the all grace of an elven king, he sped out the wooden door and into the ornate hallway.

* * *

"Brandor," a soft, musical voice whined, "Brandooor."

The oldest prince rolled his green eyes in exasperation before casting an annoyed glance at the elfling tugging on his shirt, "What is it now, Legolas?"

"I'm bored, let's go get some ice cream!" Legolas replied, releasing his brother's green shirt and coming behind his chair, leaning over to have a look at the paper's his elder brother was so intently working on at the moment.

Irritated that Legolas was reading over his shoulder, he turned to stare intently and the innocent face of the elfling. Green eyes met ice blue, and they held each other's gaze for a long while, before Brandor let out a defeated sigh. "Can't you just get someone in the kitchens to get you ice cream? I'm sure we have some in the fridge."

Legolas tipped his blond head to the side and rolled his eyes dramatically, "It's not the same as actually going out and getting some, and I'm bored from being in the palace all day." He then folded his arms across his small chest, "Besides, all you've been doing all day is sitting there and scribbling away at those papers. Don't'cha wanna get outside?"

Brandor lifted himself from his desk and stacked the papers he was working on to the side, "Enunciate, Legolas," he chastised.

"Don't _you _want _to _get outside?" The little voice asked again.

There was no way Legolas would give up getting prospective ice cream, nagging until eventually, Brandor relented, letting Legolas drag him outside the large, fair palace and into the city beyond.

The city surrounding the palace was one of the last refuges for the elves, after the time of Men came, and many sailed west. Nestled in the heart of the fair Greenwood, protected by woodland magic by the King, it served as a hiding spot, where no mortals entered except by invitation. Here, as well as Imladris and Lothlórien, elves could live peacefully. Naturally, Wood Elves disliked the idea of not being connected with nature, but the thought that Mortals should become more advanced than them was absurd, so to support the growth of technology, much had to be built around the trees in terms of development. Cars were not often used or seen along the dirt roads running through the city, but when they were there were rarely run on the toxic gas, and instead used electricity to power their small motors. No matter what progressed advanced in, the elves hiding with the trees in this forest would always remain conscious of their environment.

Little, colourful shops in between the towering trees dotted the area, and a particular market place was just within walking distance of the palace, and that is where the little prince dragged the older, but still quite little in terms of the elves mind you, prince.

"When was the last time you even stepped a foot outside the palace?" Legolas asked, still dragging his big brother by the sleeve of his dress shirt.

In truth, Brandor thought it had been nearly three days. The green-eyed prince let out a long groan at that question, not wanting to give his little brother the satisfaction of knowing that he did, indeed, need a break. The past days have been exhausting, finals were coming up with his schoolwork and he knew he needed to study, not wanting to disappoint his father in any form. Legolas was lucky he was still doing quite elementary work when it came to his schooling, nothing compared to the tasks landing on Brandor's shoulders. Secretly, he was quite please that Legolas offered a small respite from the studying.

"I'll take that as a 'a long time.'" Legolas smirked in reply to his brother groan.

Using his free hand, Brandor smiled and playfully ruffled Legolas' golden hair, taking his hand away from his little brother's fair head before Legolas would swat his hand away.

The walked, or more like Legolas walked and Brandor was dragged, out of the golden palace gates and onto the dirt path, ignoring the hustle and bustle of elves going to and fro on this busy Saturday afternoon. Some would stop and giggle at the sight of their Heir being yanked on by the youngest prince, causing a blush to stain Brador's high cheekbones.

"Okay, Legolas, you can let go now. I get it, I'm following you, we are indeed getting ice cream and I won't leave you." Brandor tried, gently pulling his sleeve out of the elfling's grasp.

"Nice try," Legolas said, gripping the shirt even tighter, "The last time we went out of the palace together alone you ran off to see that Tauriel girl." Noticing his brother's even more prominent blush, he giggled. "Oh, I'm not stupid, brother, I see the longing looks you give her, lover-boy."

"Now, Legolas, some day you just might find a lovely elleth of you own, albeit not as lovely as her," Brandor sighed, a wistful smile on his face as he daydreamed of long red hair and startling hazel eyes.

Legolas rolled his light blue eyes, instead turning his attention to all the familiar shops they were passing. Show repair store, bakery, bookstore, computer repair store… Aha, finally, the ice cream parlour. The abrupt stop in front of the ice cream shop shook Brandor out of his reverie.

"Okay, _now_ will you let go of my shirt?" The oldest one again pleaded. This time, Legolas happily relented.

"As long as you don't go running off to your _lovely elleth,_" he teased.

Pushing open the glass door, the princes were greeted with the sticky sweet smell of ice cream.

"Mmmm, what flavour are you going to have?" Legolas asked his brother, strolling up to the counter to look at all the different options.

The parlour was small, but clean and well furnished, and there were only a few other elves milling about in the store. Those who were inside didn't notice that the two elves that walked in were their princes, and that's just the way the brothers preferred their time out of the palace, to be rightly unnoticed.

"Strawberry, what are you going to have?" Brandor answered.

"Strawberry."

"Well, if we have one thing in common, it's our identical ice cream tastes."

"Don't tell Ada I told you, but he likes strawberry too, when I can drag him out here he always gets it."

"Oh I believe it. Old bugger has a secret sweet tooth."

At that, both brothers shared a quiet laugh just as a large ellon came out of a back room, shutting the door behind him with a _click _and taking great strides up to behind the counter, towering over the two princes.

Legolas looked up with wide eyes into the round face of the ellon, before turning to Brandor who was trying hard not to be intimidated by the ellon's piercing brown gaze.

"Um," the youngest said in an unsure voice, "Where's Faelon, the usual ice cream ellon?"

The ellon raised a thick eyebrow at the elfling, a small smile appearing on his face, "Faelon's gone out, we were running out of milk. I'm his brother, here to take over shop this morning."

Both Legolas and Brandor let out a small sigh they didn't know they were holding upon seeing the ellon's smile. "Oh! That's okay then, nice to meet you, I'm Legolas and this is my brother, Brandor. What's your name?"

Guron knew he could be quite intimidating, and glad that the elflings relaxed when they saw his smile, but he didn't expect _those _names to come out of the smaller one's mouth. Although, his brother mentioned the little prince coming to his parlour many times, with pride lacing his voice.

_Leave it to Legolas to always be the chatty one_, Brandor thought as he rolled his eyes. "Legolas, I'm sure he would prefer to not be interrogated by some curious elfling."

"I'm not _interrogating, _Brandor, I'm just asking a question," Legolas protested, crossing his arms.

The ice cream worker watched the exchanged between the two brothers, before letting out a booming laugh that startled the few elves in the shop and the princes. "Royalty or not, you to remind me of Faelon and I." He said, wiping the small tears from his eyes and watching the princes exchange glances. "My name is Guron, at your service young princes."

It was Legolas who got out of the moment shock of the laughter first, smiling up at the ellon, "Nice to meet you, Guron. I come here a lot when I can, the ice cream is the best!"

"And, unfortunately, he drags me out when he does come here," Brandor cast an annoyed glance, but his tone and eyes were smiling.

"He secretly likes it," Legolas chucked, "Oh, uhm, I would like a strawberry ice cream, please. And so would he," he said, nodding towards Brandor.

The large, smiling Guron nodded, "Coming right up. Why don't you two have a seat in the mean time, and I'll bring it out to you?"

Legolas, once again, grabbed Brandor's shirtsleeve and dragged him towards the nearest open booth. "Aren't you glad you got out of the palace now, oh dear stuck-up brother of mine?" Legolas asked, eyes sparkling, while seating himself opposite of Brandor.

"Since when did the elfling get so sarcastic?"

"Runs in the family."

The two gently teased each other until Guron brought out bowls of pink, fluffy ice cream. Legolas immediately dug in, getting the sticky stuff in his hair, while Brandor ate with dignity. Or as much dignity as he could muster without bursting out and laughing at the clumps of strawberry ice-cream making themselves home in Legolas' golden hair.

It wasn't long before both small bowls were devoured, leaving pink melted residue behind as the only evidence there was once ice cream in them.

"Alright, I think we should head back before Adar wonders where his sons ran off to," Brandor said, standing up and fishing in his pocket for money to pay for their treat.

Despite no one making themselves known to want to hurt the Royal Family in the Greenwood, the prince's father had an overprotective streak that came out every once in a while. Or once. Ever since the Queen's unexpected death ten years ago, the Elven King kept watch on his two young children like a keen hawk has sights on it's prey.

Legolas froze, "You'd think one of the guard's that knew where we were going told him, right? Or else he will kill us when we get back."

Holding his hand up to his chest in mock-hurt Brandor said, "I am well past my majority, and he knows what a responsible son I am."

Barely containing a snort, "So responsible, like all those times you would leave me in this city to seek out your dear Tauriel." At the indignant look on his brother's face, Legolas couldn't contain any mirth and burst out laughing.

Muttering a few elvish curses under his breath and hoping Legolas was too caught up in his own mirth to notice the bright blush on Brandor's cheeks, the green-eyed elf replied, "Let's just get going before Ada does something stupid."

Sighing in exasperation, Legolas followed his brother out of the red booth and to the counter, where Brandor paid Guron for the two bowls of ice cream and thanked him for his time.

"No problem, young princes," Guron replied with a large smile as the two exited the tiny shop.

The dusty street was even more crowded as the day went by, and Legolas breathed in the fresh air, casting a side-glance at Brandor. "Home is boring, if only Ada didn't know we were gone."

Brandor gently placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I could try calling him, but you know how the old man hates anything to do with technology. Messes with his magic or something," he cast a conspiratorial glance at Legolas as he reached for his mobile in his pocket, "But I think he just doesn't want to bother to figure out how to work them properly," to which Legolas giggled.

The older elf tapped at the screen on his phone once he pulled it out as Legolas waited patiently for his father to answer. After a minute of the constant _riiinngg _in Brandor's ear, there was no reply on his adar's end as the clear feminine voice announcing voicemail option came up. Shaking his head, he ended the call and shoved the phone back into his trouser pocket. "Sorry, tithen pen, he didn't answer and is probably worried sick. We should get back to the palace." Brandor had to hold in a groan for himself, it's not like he wanted to go back home simply to sit and study, but Legolas looked a bit more distraught. _Oh well, _the elder thought, _I wonder what Adar is up to, anyway._

* * *

Thranduil searched nearly every ornate room in the palace, from Legolas' messy chamber, which he would have to give a stern lecturing to later about the importance of not leaving one's clothes and drawings littered about the floor, to Brandor's neat and tidy one. Although the Elven King knew he could be sometimes, _maybe, _over protective, only for his children's benefit of course, this time it wasn't his children's safety that worried him. Legolas was known for getting into all kinds of mischief when he is bored, and it was the poor elves that would cross his path when his youngest was in such a state Thranduil worried for.

To say he was surprised at getting such a letter would not be the whole truth, but neither of his children even showed the possible signs of harbouring magic. All elves show some knowledge on magic, some more prominent than others. The Elven King was sure Legolas wouldn't keep such a secret, he would probably get too excited and tell Brandor or Thranduil, so the elfling had to be unaware of the power he possessed. Better to find the youngest prince quickly, before he did indeed find out the suppressed magic, and most likely an unfortunate edhel would be caught in the crossfire.

Almost at the palace doors, his two sons must have left the grounds having searched everywhere else for the brothers. The two guards keeping watch dutifully on either side of the grand wooden door bowed slightly as their king neared.

"Haedirn, Pengon." Thranduil acknowledged the two guards, "Did my sons pass through these doors this morning?"

Haedirn, the large ellon standing to the left of the door chuckled, "Yes, the tithen pen came through with his hanar, shouting something about ice cream and about how Prince Brandor never leaves the palace."

Of course Legolas would want ice cream, Thranduil could have smacked himself. If there was one thing the elfling loved, it was ice cream. A trait he no doubt attained from his mother, who had a sweet tooth like no other.

Nodding Thranduil then asked, "When did they leave?"

"About a half hour ago, Your Majesty," came the straightforward, no nonsense reply from Pengon to the King's right. Pengon was the youngest in the guard, and was not around the seemingly strict Elven king often enough to act lax around him, unlike Haedirn who was nearly as old as Thranduil himself.

Thranduil let out a long sigh, and moved to lean against the cool stonewall of the palace next to the doors. All he could do now was wait for his sons to come back unscathed, lest he go out into the streets himself and look for them.

He nearly leapt from the wall and out the doors when he heard the familiar sounds of Legolas' chatter and Brandor's groaning as both brother came up the wooden steps to the palace door, Brandor pushing one heavy door open and allowing his little brother through.

"-And please, feel free to bother me at any point for the rest of the day. The more I have to study the more I feel as if I'm going insane." The elder told his brother with a smile and a light in his green eyes.

Seriously, Legolas turned to his brother just as the wooden door shut and both were in the palace, not yet noticing the presence of the Elven King, "Brother, I hate to inform you of this, but I think you already are insane."

Mouth open, Brandor was just about to come back with a witty remark before his eyes flashed towards his father and his expression became more sober, causing a confused look to fleet past Legolas' face before he to turned towards where Brandor was looking, all sense of mischief dropping from his fair face.

"Adar," Brandor started, "We hope you didn't fret over us, we simply went to get ice cream."

Thranduil remained stern, his ice blue eyes landing on Legolas. "I know, but something has come up, I need to speak with you both immediately. Especially regarding you, Legolas."

The youngest's blue eyes, so much like his father's, went wide upon hearing that. "Brandor did it, I swear I had nothing to do with it. Those kitchen maids are lying-"

"This isn't about whatever mess you've done now," Thranduil interrupted smoothly, placing slender fingers on either side of his forehead and rubbing small circles in annoyance.

Legolas let out a breath and relaxed his shoulders. _Good, _the elfling thought, _the chickens are safe for now. _

"What this is about, though, cannot wait, and I suggest we move into my office." Both brothers shifted uncomfortably at those words as their father turned abruptly around and headed down the long corridor to his office, princelings following behind as they casted nervous glances at each other.

Thranduil's office was nestled in the west part of the palace, and it didn't take long for the family to reach the simple wooden door leading to it. Despite the elegance of the palace in its entirety, the office was cozier more than anything. A large, red velvet chair sat behind a deep wooden desk that was currently piled with numerous papers and reports. A discarded laptop remained shut at the left hand corner of the desk, the King having to prefer to write by hand. Pens were littered across the papers, and there were colourful post-it notes with various reminders written down upon them. Two smaller chairs placed in front of the desk, adorned with the same red velvet, and Thranduil motioned his sons to sit in them while he meandered around to sit behind the desk.

"We are _so _screwed. I've never seen him this serious before." Brandor whispered over to Legolas.

"_You _haven't."

"Well _you _are always the one getting in trouble."

"Enough." Thranduil's commanding voice cut through the brother's bickering. Although it was stern, when Legolas looked up to meet his father's gaze he was simply even more confused. Could he see pride swirling behind those ice blue eyes? Did his father _finally _acknowledge the ingenious behind his pranks? Legolas racked his brain; there wasn't anything recent he could think of that would make his adar proud.

"Adar," Hesitantly Brandor asked, "What's going on?"

The Elven King plucked a faded parchment from the many papers of his desk, and gently handed it over to Legolas, who took it with narrowed eyes.

"What's this?" He asked suspiciously, turning the letter over in his hands to reveal a neat script gracing the cover.

"A letter, for you."

Slender fingers opened the parchment, and there was a moment of silence as Legolas read over the letter, ice blue eyes growing ever the wider with each passing word they scanned over. When he was finished, he carefully lowered the letter from his eyes and stared at his father, letting a few seconds pass before lifting it back up and reading it over again with renewed vigour.

"This doesn't make sense." Came the simple statement, placing the letter back onto the desk.

"What is it?" Brandor asked, a curious tone couldn't be kept from his voice.

"It says I've been accepted to some school." Legolas quickly said to his brother, before settling his confused gaze back on the Elven King for answers.

Thranduil chucked, "Some school indeed, ion nin. The same school your mother and I went to all those years ago."

Hesitating, Legolas said, "But that can't be right. The letter said it was a school for magic. All elves have magic, and I never showed more than what all elves have."

So Thranduil's suspicions were confirmed, and his son didn't know he had magic. "These letter's are never false, and although it may not present itself now, you do have magic I don't doubt."

"You said you and Naneth went to this school? Hogwarts?-"

Brandor let out a snort at the name.

"-What's going to happen now? This school starts up September Third, so will I be going? Do other elves go there?" Legolas asked, a worried flash in his eye.

"Patience, patience, Legolas, one question at a time." Thranduil tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible.

Legolas raised his hand to his fore head, he was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Sensing his son's discomfort, Thranduil tried to reassure his youngest.

"It is only June, Legolas, Brandor has his exams coming up and another school year won't start for a couple of months. We don't have to discuss everything right now, and we have time. Why don't you and your brother take a break? Think on things and rest up." He waved his hand to dismiss his two sons, who slowly got up from the velvet chairs, Legolas still clutching his head. "Oh and Brandor? Do try to follow my advice too, I know how hard you have been studying, don't strain yourself. I mean both of you when I say 'rest up.'"

* * *

_Elleth- Female Elf_

_Ellon- Male Elf_

_Tithen pen- Little one_

_Edhel (The "dh" make the "th" sound)- Elf_

_Hanar- Brother_

_Ion nin- My son_

_Naneth- Mother_


	2. Drenched

_AN: Phew, I am tired; it's quite late! But I knew I could not stop writing this story. So much has happened, and although I'm not too proud of this chapter, I knew I had to continue the story. Happy reading!_

* * *

Legolas knew he shouldn't feel overly shocked at the prospect of getting such a letter from Hogwarts, it was quite known throughout the kingdom that the Elvenking went to the famous magic school when he was little more than an elfling, almost two thousand years ago. But, Brandor was never sent one, and neither brothers presented any sign of magic. There were no lights flickering when he got upset and nothing flew off the shelves when he was angry, so the letter, literally, came out of nowhere.

He walked out of the office with Brandor at his heels. "See, _hanar_, even _ada_ thinks you're too uptight," Legolas said.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Legolas saw Brandor hide a smile at the playful banter. "And he thinks I should take a break, but then where will my oh-so wonderful reputation of always having a stick up my ass go?"

Legolas turned wide-eyed and stifled a giggle with his hand. Where did that princely tongue go? "Careful, you'll start to sound like a human, or worse, a _dwarf."_

Although he tried, Brandor couldn't hide his chuckles and soon both elves were toppled on the floor laughing golden laughter.

When they both calmed down, Brandor at up on the wooden floor and crossed his legs, glancing at his honeg a bit sadly. Legolas quickly sobered up at his brother's look.

"What?"

The older shook his blonde head; "It's just going to be really silent without you around."

At this point, Legolas was a little confused. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Brandor ruffled his brother's hair. "Not always."

"Brandor, don't get all sappy on me now. We still have a few months left." He tried to sound light hearted, for right now he was still shocked over getting that letter. Thinking about how he would miss the people in the Greenwood was not something he wanted to dwell on at the moment.

Changing the subject and casting a sly smile, Brandor said, "Ada basically said we could have the day off, what mischievousness would you like to get up to?"

Wow. First getting the letter and now _Brandor _wanting to create trouble. Today was just full of surprises for Legolas.

* * *

"Um, Legolas, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Oh, you're not backing out on me now, are you?"

"No… Its just there are many ways this could quickly turn on us."

"Not if we do it right, now when Galion walks out of those doors, quickly pour the bucket on him."

"And if he sees us?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time Brandor voiced his worries, "We're Wood Elves, he won't see us if we don't let him. Besides, that's the beauty of using a few drops of water from the Gûlhir_. _He won't even remember getting wet!"

"That's the theory," Brandor said uncertainly. Both brothers were hiding in an Elm by the entrance to the courtyard, leading to the Hall of Trees. All Wood Elves, especially this time of year, ventured there to share stories, song, and drink. Usually, Galion came around about this time in the evening, and the poor adviser was this night's victim.

It had taken all day for the brothers to march down to the Enchanted River, it's black waters guarding the Greenwood from unwanted intruders. Although who these intruders were, Legolas did not know, and whenever he approached the Elvenking with the question, Thranduil would shake his head and mutter something about 'dark times long past.'

But, the waters had another purpose. When fallen in, the person immediately falls asleep, and if they escape the waters they completely forget the experience. Legolas found when used in very small quantities, it could make someone just forget recent events. There was no way to _describe _how much trouble Legolas got into last year for lacing the noble's drinks with the water. The fallout was hilarious, though, and he did not regret all those floors he had to scrub for a second.

"Shh, here he comes," Legolas warned Brandor, who had the bucket ready.

Those great wooden doors swung open, and the patter of elven feet followed.

"Now!" Legolas hissed as Brandor sent a quick prayer to Elbereth before dumping the entire contents of the bucket onto the unsuspecting Elf.

The young elves quickly pressed themselves against the tree, trying to seem as tiny as possible. If everything went well, Galion wouldn't even look up to notice them, having forgotten being poured on.

When Legolas dared to sneak a peak over at what was supposed to be a firmly soaked Galion, he was surprised to find a firmly soaked Elvenking.

"Brandor," Legolas said still staring at the ground.

"Did it work?" Came Brandor's voice as head, too, peaked down.

"We need to run."

"D-do you think he'll remember?" Brandor stuttered out.

"I really don't want to find out." And with that, Legolas slowly started to climb down the Elm, Brandor following.

"Ah, Legolas, Brandor, what are you doing up there?" The melodic voice of his father nearly startled Legolas out of the tree, and Brandor spat a choice curse under his breath.

"Nothing, Ada, just relaxing in the tree." Legolas hesitantly replied, glancing down.

"I'm glad to see you two are taking my advice and relaxing," Thranduil smiled, and then frowned as if he just remembered something important. He touched his shoulder with a pale hand, and seemed surprised to find it wet.

"What happened?" Legolas asked, what he hoped was anyway, innocently.

That was the wrong thing to say. Thranduil's frown deepened as he stared at the two Elflings caught in the tree. The Elvenking shook himself, recoiling and the droplets of water that flew from his robe. He took a long, wet strand of his blond hair and carefully securitized the lock; it was just as he thought. Natural water didn't hold the murky opacity of water from the Gûlhir_. _

The two elves caught in the tree stared at their father; Legolas with expressions of innocence in those silver blue eyes, Brandor with guilt as he hoped their punishment would be less severe if they came out right with their prank.

"I don't know where I should begin to be angry with you two." The Elven King said as he dropped the wet strand and folded his arms over his chest. "Dumping water on me-"

"It wasn't intended for _you,_"

"-Legolas, I don't know _how_ that is supposed to make me feel better about the situation. When I said you two could have the day off, it meant _not _sneaking to the edges of this forest. You know how dangerous that is, both of you. What if someone saw you? What if you were unable to find your way back to the city? What if you were to fall into the Enchanted River yourselves?"

"Adar," Brandor began, as he released himself from the tree and hit the ground soundlessly, Legolas following suit. "None of that happened. Greenwood is still protected from prying eyes, we found our way back unscathed, and we promise we'll never do it again."

Thranduil relaxed, but only slightly. Both brothers exchanged glances.

"Now that all is settled," Legolas said nonchalantly, "I think I have to feed the cat. If you'll excuse me, hanar, adar_._"

"And where do you think you're going? Feed the cat? Really, Legolas, we don't even have a cat. Do not get any ideas into your head that you are to escape punishment."

Legolas looked crestfallen. "We don't have a cat? Since when? No one told me. I think I should excuse myself to go and get a cat to fill the cat-less voids in our hearts." He began to walk away.

Brandor gave up trying to understand his brother, and simply rolled his eyes and shook his shaggy head. "Oh, no. You are _not _leaving me here with a soaking wet, irate adar all alone."

"I quite agree, Brandor. Why don't you and Legolas do something worth your while? I do think the laundry workers need a break for the evening. I think laundry duty for the night would be befitting. You could even take these soiled robes to dry." Thranduil held up a soaking sleeve for the two Elflings to see.

Both elves sighed in defeat, while Thranduil felt a hint of satisfaction.

"So much for a day off," Legolas muttered.

"You should of thought of that before dumping water on my head."

"It was supposed to be _Galion's_ head."

"Then I am thankful it was me, just to spare that poor ellon from another of your pranks. Off you go."

* * *

The laundry room was bereft of any edhelrim_; _the Elven King must have sent a message ahead informing the workers of their night off. Legolas groaned at the piles of dirty laundry around different wash-buckets. In the centre of the white room was a large pool of steaming water, and towards the back hung various clothes on different lines to dry.

"We have to do it by hand." Brandor sighed.

"The humans have this wonderful thing called a washing machine. It washes clothes without the need of Elves to scrub them. Such a thing exists, Brandor, yet all _ada _does is curse technology." Legolas made his way to the first pile of clothes, all different assortments of brightly coloured socks, and began to fill a wash bucket with warm water from a nearby sink.

"Ada says it messes with his magic. But you know what I think?" Brandor said, picking an equally daunting pile of pants to begin work on.

"What?"

"Well, technology spreads ideas, especially with inventions like the internet." He poured soap into his own steaming wash bucket. "If ideas spread out us, about Elvendom in a world dominated by Man, our peace hidden among them would be jeopardized."

Legolas was thoughtful. "Magic keeps us hidden, just as technology tries to seek us out. As the Humans grow with their inventions, Elves will grow with our magics. I think it goes hand it hand. To be honest, I still think we could benefit from the use of a washing machine."

"Did you see the way he reacted when he found out we went to the border of the Greenwood? He was worried." Brandor mused.

"Do you think something else is trying to seek us out?"

There were a few seconds of silence, except for the slight splashes as both brothers worked on their loads.

"I'll tell you what I don't think," Brandor began. "I don't think _ada_'s magical border surrounding the Greenwood is failing him, I don't think Humans are poking their heads where they shouldn't be, and I don't think the Greenwood needs to be worried about being discovered by human eyes.

"But you think there's danger."

"I feel it, so do you, and so does ada_. _There's something in the air, not something emanate, but there is a sense of foreboding."

Legolas shivered. He never really noticed anything wrong, but Brandor always had a keen intuition about the state of the world. The room fell silent, and the solemn air was something the young prince felt uncomfortable in.

To lighten the tension, the younger picked a sock from his washing pile. It was red and sudsy from his washing, and could belong to any number of Courtiers among the castle. He took his aim at the brooding Brandor, before letting it fly from his small fist and smack into the face of his target.

The sock fell to the floor as Brandor registered what just happened. Muffled giggles could be heard form Legolas' direction.

"What in Elbereth's name did I do to deserve that?" Brandor squeaked out over his brother's chiming laughter.

"All this talk, it was a bit depressing. And, you have to admit, that was _hilarious._"

Brandor let a smile slowly come to his lips. "Ah, you're right. Silly me." He casually picked up his wash bucket, moved toward the sink and made as though he was going to refill it, and dumped it on the unaware, laughing elfling.

"Ew!" Legolas shouted. "Dirty pant water. You're _so_ going to regret that!" He wasn't tall enough to reach over his brother's head, so Legolas splashed his own dirty sock water all over Brandor's side.

Brandor stared at Legolas is mock anger, before picking up the slight young Elf and hefting him towards the centre pool. Legolas saw what his brother was doing, and just as Brandor was about to toss him into the warm water, he shifted his weight so they both went toppling into the centre pool.

They both emerged, laughing as the warm water sloshed around them. Legolas splashed at the sputtering Brandor's face, and he indignantly splashed back. Thus began a war Elves would tell about in the millennia to come; a great splashing war between the two mighty sons of the Elven King.

Each elf dunked himself in the water as the other made for splash to the face. The floor around them was growing wetter and wetter as those sprays of water missed the opposing brother and landed on the tile. Eventually, both elfling's tired of their game, ceasing their splashes with golden Elven laughter.

"At least we don't need to do our clothes tonight." Brandor snorted out.

"Yeah," Legolas agreed still laughing, "but I think we'll need a mop. The floor is soaked."

"Great, more work to do. My favourite."

Legolas laughed as he tried to pry his brother from the pool, and after three or so more times of falling back down himself, he got Brandor to be standing.

"Let's clean this up before ada has a cow."

When both brothers stepped out of the warm pool, they found that their _ada _would, indeed, not have a cow. The floor was the same, wet in some places from the elflings splashes, the wash buckets still filled to the brim with dirty water. The think that was different, however, were the clothes. The socks and pants they were working on earlier were hung on the line, clean but still dripping water.

Two pairs of Elven eyes stared in shock at the clothes in front of them.

"Did someone come in while we were messing around?" Legolas asked.

"I don't know," Brandor replied, stepping over to where two dry towels hung on the clothesline. "I think this could be your magic at work."

"That's not possible," Legolas said as he grabbed a towel from Brandor's outstretched arm, "I would've noticed, right?"

"Don't look at me," Brandor said when Legolas' wide, ice blue eyes landed on him, "I don't know anything about magic."

Legolas stared at the ground, a bit worried, a bit frightened of the unexpected change. He needed to relax, the talk of magic and that letter must have triggered something, something _accidental. _He nearly laughed, wow, his magic actually did something useful, for he was sure it would be as mischievous and whimsical as he was.

"Should we tell ada about this?" Brandor asked, scrubbing his face dry with the towel.

Legolas frowned. "If he knows magic did the laundry instead of us doing it ourselves, he'll try to put another punishment on us to make up for it."

"We should still tell him, it might be important."

"Hmmm, I say we do tell him about the accidental magic, but not say what exactly happened. It's a win-win."

"That," Brandor started, "Is a horrible idea."

"Do _you _want to do more chores?"

"Legolas, you know he will wheedle the truth out some how. There's no fooling the crafty old bugger. Besides, what will we say instead?"

There was a twinkle in the younger Elf's eye. "We tell him it was the magic that made us wet. He won't question it."

A long sigh escaped from Brandor's lips. "Fine, then let's head back to the palace. We've been gone long enough now that it won't appear as though we're shrinking laundry duty." Brandor turned on his heel; little Legolas following rightly in his footsteps as they excited the laundry house and made their way back to the palace.

* * *

The guards only glanced at the drenched princes before they had to hide their smiles at seeing the sons of the mighty King Thranduil look like wet cats. They wondered what sort of mischief the young princes stuck their noses in again, but most decided it was best not to know in the end.

Once inside, Legolas and Brandor swiftly headed towards their rooms, light elven footsteps making no sound on the marbled floors. Even though they agreed on a story, both brothers decided getting into warm, dry clothes would be a priority before facing the Elvenking.

Legolas broke off from Brandor, who skidded to a halt beside his own bedroom, before flinging the oak door open. His chambers weren't sparsely decorated, with a large bed and ornate decorations carved into the furniture, but it wasn't overly big or lavish. The servants would always come in and pick up any dirty clothes on the floor, but the desk and table were untouched and littered with all his items. Important items, at least important to him, such as a particularly shiny rock or bits of metal, anything that would catch a boy's interest were laden on any spare surface.

The princeling quickly stripped off his sodden clothes and replaced them with clean, dry clothes from the dresser drawer. Not wanting the servants to find water-soaked clothes in the morning, Legolas carefully draped them over a chair to dry for the night, so suspicions wont rise the following morning.

By the time he was finished, it was nearly dinnertime. Legolas cursed himself for dallying, and he quickly grabbed a wide-toothed comb and ran it through his long blonde hair. He sighed, he knew he didn't look like a prince, but it would have to do. Plus, he could play it off as the work from the laundry disheveled him.

The clock was nearly at six, and Legolas was out his bedroom door, quietly shutting it. He made his way to the other side of the hall where Brandor was, and softly knocked on the oak door. Nothing happened, and he assumed Brandor headed down to the dining room already. Legolas walked down the hallway, passing by servants and greeting them with his usual carefree smile.

* * *

When Legolas arrived at the large, ornate dining room, Brandor and his father were already seated at the head of one long, beautiful glass table. Brandor was discussing something with Adar_, _who was smiling and nodding along, following the rapid hand movements as Brandor told his story. Legolas only caught the end of the conversation as he moved towards the other Elves.

"It was magic, ada_," _Brandor exclaimed, "Legolas did accidental magic."

Thranduil then took his eyes off his oldest son, focusing them on Legolas, who took a seat quietly across from Brandor. "Ah, Legolas, Brandor was just telling me the regaling events of the afternoon and how you two became drenched with water."

"I don't know what accidental magic is, ada_, _how was it like when you were my age?" Legolas asked, picking a bit at the fruit laid out on the table.

Thranduil moved to gently swat that hand away from the grapes, "Don't ruin your dinner," but then his voiced softened. "Accidental magic happens when young magicians feel scared or angry."

Legolas moved to open his mouth, but quickly shut it when Thranduil held up a finger. "Let me finish, ion nin_. _I know you probably felt neither of these emotions, but with Elves it's different. Magic is very natural to us, we are surrounded by it every day, and won't showcase it's self in extreme measure. More likely that your accidental magic came from emotion you usually feel, such as happiness or joy."

"That makes sense," Legolas started, "I was joking around with Brandor when it happened."

The Elven King nodded, "That is something you do quite often," he teased as Brandor playfully rolled his eyes.

"Does this mean something weird will happen on a daily basis? Because Legolas does find tormenting me to be fun quite too often." Brandor said with no malice in his tone and playfulness shining in his green eyes.

"It could mean so, that is up to Legolas. Elves also have a far better sense of controlling it, which is why it might not have manifested until now, until the letter arrived in our home and we all became aware of Legolas' magic." Thranduil said, casting a glance at his youngest son who was staring at them in earnest.

"I can control it? So it doesn't happen all the time?" He asked, a little too excited. Then, another thought struck his young mind, "Can I use it? So it doesn't show up randomly, but I can do stuff with it?"

Thranduil sighed; just the thought of Legolas causing mischief with his power was enough to send a poor old Elf like himself into the arms of Mandos.

"It's much more than that, Legolas." Thranduil said to his son, just as servants walked through the door with dinner plates in hand.

Each plate was put gently down in front of the elves, and it was then did Legolas realize how hungry he was after the day's events. He quickly scanned the table for the salad dressing, snatching it before Brandor could use the rest of it up, and drenched his greens in the zesty dressing.

Only after did he shove the first couple of mouthfuls of salad into his mouth did he look up, not quite finished with the conversation at hand.

Thranduil was looking at him with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. "I guess you were too hungry to forget your table manners, too, it looks like."

Legolas let out a silent "oh" before straightening up and placing the white, soft napkin gently on his lap.

His father took a few gulps from the offered wine glass before resuming conversation with his son. "Now, Legolas, magic doesn't work that way. You would need training, the teachings of spells before you could put any of them into use. Even for Elves, mastery doesn't come out of thin air. You'll need time, and that's what this school will do. Maybe next summer you can regale us with all you have learnt."

Legolas could not help but feel a little disappointed, it would take time before he could use anything in earnest, he supposed, and in the mean time he would have to deal with strange happenings around the palace as his own magic flared out.

"Don't be discouraged, maybe I can teach you some little things that could help over the summer." Thranduil said, reaching over and playfully mussing up Legolas' hair.

"Ada_, _what was it like when you first discovered you had magic? Did grandfather have magic too?" Legolas asked.

"Your grandfather did have magic, yes, and when he found out he was very proud of me, just as I am with you." Thranduil casted a pointed glance at Brandor, who was listening intently, "And you, Brandor. I am very proud of both of you."

Legolas and Brandor smiled, but he was still curious about the accidental magic.

"What was accidental magic like with you, ada_, _could you control it?"

"No, ion nin_, _I could not control it any more than you can now. It left quite a few surprises around out household." Thranduil said with a chuckle.

"Like what?" Brandor asked.

"One time, I accidentally turned your grandfather's hair purple. It didn't last long, but it sure made me laugh so hard tears sprung to my eyes. Your grandfather, however, upon seeing his beautiful golden head turn a bright purple, had a different sort of tears in his eyes."

"No way!" Legolas said, "Could you teach me that trick?" Brandor caught Legolas eyeing him and mouthed a strict "don't even think about it."

Thranduil laughed, "It was accidental, though you may learn something of the sort at school." Legolas brightened.

The Elven King though sobered slightly, and looked at his youngest a bit more gravely. "Legolas, this school, however, you may find to be very different. There will be mortals; even Wizarding people are unknown to us as we are protected here. You must promise me, and don't look at me like that, you must promise me that you will keep your head down as much as possible. There will be no pranks, you will behave." Thranduil sighed, "Elves have gone in the past, but times have changed. Most going now will keep their identities and themselves a secret. You must understand the importance of this. There is something in the air, something that isn't quite _right, _tithen pen, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Legolas looked at his father a little wide eyed. He rarely sounded so grave, and Legolas hope his father knew he would take the advice to heart. He nodded, making eye contact with the Elven King, before the rest of their meal was brought in.

* * *

_ Honeg-little brother_

_adar/ada-father/dad/daddy_

_hanar-brother_

_tithen pen-little one_

_edhelrim-elves_

_ellon-male elf_

_Gûlhir-Enchanted River_


End file.
